


Between Us

by rowofstars



Series: The Between Verse [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Awkward Boners, Blow Jobs, Dark One Belle (Once Upon a Time), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, Lust Potion/Spell, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fic, Sex in the Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time), Shameless Smut, Smut, Spinner Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, The Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time), Tumblr Prompt, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Young Baelfire | Neal Cassidy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-16 23:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Rumplestiltskin accidentally spills a potion that has some interesting, awkward, and frustrating effects, which he tries to hide from Lady Belle. But Belle knows something is *up* and she's determined to find out what...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure unadulterated porn with absolutely no point whatsoever. For the May prompt at a-monthly-rumbelleing: lust potion. I know this is usually done with Dark One Rumple and Belle in a semi-canon setting, but I thought it would be fun to explore a DO!Belle and an unsuspecting spinner!Rumple.

Rumplestiltskin coughed as the plume of magic smoke dissipated. 

He waved a hand in front of his face and blinked hard, shaking his head until he could see and breathe again. There was a small red puddle on the worktable, but he hastily wiped it away with his dusting rag. He picked up the potion vial, watching as the remaining liquid swirled inside, blood red with a shimmer of gold, and then stoppered it firmly.

He set it back down on the table where he’d found it, hoping the mistress of the castle wouldn’t notice that some of her latest potion had been spilled. Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly made his way out of Lady Belle’s tower and back to the main floor, grateful that the magic imbued in the castled alleviated the pain in his leg and allowed him such freedom of movement. He panted and leaned back against the stone wall of the stairway as he dabbed at his forehead with the rag. Pausing, he drew the cloth back slowly and saw the stain left by the potion, soaked into the cloth and spread to about the size of a silver coin. 

Swallowing hard, Rumple tucked the rag in the waistband of his leather breeches, and hurried to the kitchen to begin preparing the tea. The best way he’d found to distract Lady Belle from her magical work, or from anything that wasn’t a book, was hot tea and sweet breads. 

The kettle and cups were placed on a large silver tray alongside a few slices of cranberry bread he’d picked up in the village market. He set a jar of orange marmalade on the tray as well, knowing how much she liked the combination of tart cranberry and sweet orange, and smiled. If he could keep her out of the tower long enough, she probably wouldn’t remember how much of the potion she’d had and wouldn’t noticed that he’d spilled some. And if she did, perhaps his offering would temper her reaction.

He wiped at his forehead again with the back of his hand and frowned when it came away damp. His heart was beating faster than normal and his skin felt heated, like he’d been sitting close to the fire. It was strange because he didn’t usually sweat this much when he worked in the castle; the rooms were always just cool enough to keep one from overheating, but it was summer and he supposed his rush to get downstairs and the fear of being caught were to blame.

Hoisting the tray with both hands, he made his way to the great hall just in time to see Lady Belle breeze through the double doors. Her dress flowed and fluttered around her like it had magic of its own, and he forced himself to look away. The fabric was a dark blue silk, almost sheer, with an intricate lace pattern of roses and wines winding their way up and around her body, each bloom stitched in gold thread that sparkled in the light from the tall windows.

“Rumplestiltskin!” she said, beaming at him. “I’m so glad I’ve made it home in time for our tea.”

He smiled back at her, secretly liking the way she always called it “our tea,” as if it was something intimate and special. She moved to take her customary seat at the head of the table as he poured two cups. He held out hers, a simple white china trimmed in gold and blue, with a tiny chip in the rim from a minor mishap on his first day. He’d been terrified in the moment, sure that with a snap of her fingers he’d be a toad for the rest of his life. Of course, it didn’t happen, and now it was her preferred cup, a reminder of a sweet moment between them.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as he pulled out the chair to her right and sat down.

“Nothing,” he replied, keeping his eyes on his tea as he blew over the rim of the cup. “Where’s Bae?”

She seemed to accept his answer and smiled fondly, reaching for the marmalade to spoon some onto her slice of bread. “Oh, he wanted to see his friend Grace and tell her all about Agrabah.”

Rumple laughed softly. “He’s very sweet on her.”

Belle pressed her lips together and gave him a knowing look. “He is indeed. But don’t worry, Granny is with them and she promised to send him home by supper.”

He nodded, still smiling, and sat back in the chair. She launched into the story of their trip, and how Bae had almost made off with a flying carpet. He let himself be lulled by her voice, and put the matter of the potion out of his mind.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Rumple awoke feeling very strange.

His head was fuzzy, like he’d had too much mulled wine, and the warmth that had been with him yesterday was now a feverish heat beneath his skin. He climbed out of bed and moved to the wash basin to splash some water on his face. It felt wonderfully cool despite being only room temperature, and he began to worry. There was a slight dampness to his pants, but he supposed it was just sweat caused by the odd, heated feeling as well as the pile of thick furs he slept under. 

Could he be getting sick?

Lady Belle had assured them that the castle protected them from everything, including disease, but he assumed they were safe from illness only while they were within the castle walls. He looked at his face in the mirror and saw no pallor or flushing, and aside from the sensation of being too warm, there were no other signs that he was unwell. He frowned and dressed, wondering if he should say something. Confessing his worries would only lead to Belle fussing over him, and in the process of trying to find a remedy she would discover his mishap with the potion. 

Rumple made his way down to the kitchens and started to prepare breakfast, hoping hard work would help him forget the strange, restless feeling. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t be afraid to tell Lady Belle what had happened. In the year since he and Baelfire had come to live with her she had never so much as raised her voice to them. They were in her debt, yet she treated them like guests, allowing them to come and go as they pleased, and making sure they had well-appointed, luxurious rooms fit for royalty.

It didn’t matter if she’d thrown him in a dungeon and kept his son. Bae was protected by the Dark One now. No one, save her, could bring him harm, and she swore she never, ever would. She’d deposed the Duke and taken care of the ogre problem, all to save the children, all because Rumple took pity on an old woman. He hadn’t known the beggar woman was the Dark One in disguise and all it would take to secure her help would be some warm stew, a mug of cider, and the meager comforts of his cottage. 

He would have sacrificed himself a hundred times over if it meant his boy stayed alive.

Spilling the potion had been an accident, but she could still be cross with him. Part of him always seemed to be waiting for the day she gave into the dark magic that bound her soul and turn him into a slug with a snap of her fingers. He’d witnessed her doing it to others, the very soldiers who tried to take his boy away, and he hadn’t been sorry in the least to see them wriggling in the dirt. She could have stepped on them and squished them into nothing beneath her boot, but she didn’t, just warned everyone that they would be like this for a fortnight and then returned to normal. 

A lesson, she’d said, in humility.

Despite the fever thrumming in his veins, he shivered.

 

* * *

 

By late afternoon, Belle knew _something_ was wrong.

Rumplestiltskin had never gone out of his way to avoid her before, not since those first few days since he’d come to live with her at the Dark Castle, and those were mostly just awkward and uncertain. He and Baelfire had never seemed afraid of her, and the last year had been one of the happiest she could remember. They felt like a little family, and a foolish part of her hoped maybe someday they really could be. She used to hate coming home to a cold, empty castle. Now there were people here to miss her when she was away and greet her when she returned; it was warm and inviting, like a home.

Except Rumple was avoiding her today, and she didn’t know why. 

She’d gone looking for him earlier, wanting a little help with one of her magical experiments, but couldn’t find him. It was nothing dangerous, and she didn’t really _need_ the help, being the Dark One and all. She liked it when Rumple assisted her, and she thought he did too. Most of the time she asked him to read a potion recipe aloud or fetch ingredients for her; once in a while she pretended to need his help with a translation. He was very good with languages, whether he knew it or not, and it was a chance for them to be alone and for her to show him how smart he truly was. It was also a chance for her to listen to that lovely voice of his, the Frontlands brogue washing over her like a soft caress.

There were moments where she might have been willing to admit that she was infatuated with Rumplestiltskin, but she knew nothing could come of it. She was the Dark One and he was only here with her because she protected his son and gave them the security they had lacked in their tiny village.

Frowning, she busied herself with clearing off her work table. It had become quite cluttered with books and scrolls and various ingredients. It was the one place she cautioned Rumple against cleaning, but had never strictly forbidden him entrance. This was his home and Bae’s and she didn’t believe anything should be off limits. 

Pausing, she eyed the small vial of lust potion she’d prepared the other day. The deep red liquid and the golden swirls that ran through it were so pleasing to look at, and called to mind thoughts of passion and frenzied ardor. It was for a deal that never came to fruition, but she planned to keep it around anyway, just in case. The vial looked different somehow than when she’d filled it, but she didn’t know why. 

Shrugging, she put it back on the shelf, humming a light tune to herself as she worked.

 

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes and counted in his head, breathing out slowly as he leaned against the wall.

Lady Belle was a beautiful, intelligent, and powerful woman, with a surprisingly sweet disposition and a sharp wit that always made him laugh at unexpected times. He was not entirely unaffected by her, but his body had never reacted so physically to her presence before. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was very fond of her and had come to care for her deeply, but there could never be more between them than friendship. He didn’t spend his nights pining away in the dark for her love, or dreaming of what her bare skin might look like against the thick furs on his bed.

He had never been one to fantasize. Even back when Milah had shared his bed there was little room for such things, and she was never one to encourage it anyway. She sought him out often enough, but their joining always felt distant and awkward. They’d never had the soul-deep connection that was supposed to come with love. Their marriage was convenience and friendship, until it was neither. Then she left, and his life became a lonely, endless toil for little reward. There was always so much work to be done that it left no time in his head or his heart for love and lust. 

Until now. 

He looked down at his leather trousers, glaring at the outline of his cock behind the strings that held them closed. Lady Belle had given him a wardrobe fit for a noble, and while it took some getting used to, he rather liked the luxury of silk and good leather. The boots were a little too dressy for his taste, but comfortable, and the stiff laces went up to his knees, helping to support his damaged leg while the castle’s magic relieved his pain.

But today everything was sensation and heat, and it was driving him slowly mad.

He’d finished the laundry and was carrying a large basket up to Lady Belle’s chambers when he felt a tingle. It went down his spine and made him stop in the middle of the stairs as his legs trembled. For a second he thought he was going to fall, but then it passed and he continued on.

Now he was standing in her room, holding the linens from her bed, with his cock hard and throbbing between his legs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way, this desperate for release, for touch, for anything. His hands squeezed the bedsheet as he hesitantly brought it to his nose and inhaled her scent. As he did, he felt the tingle again, down his spine to pool in his belly, a slow, tight tug of pleasure.

_Belle._

Rumple pressed the fabric to his nose, and breathed her in. _Gods_ , he wanted her. Dark, lustful images flitted through his mind; her lovely legs spread wide on his bed, still wearing those perilously high shoes of hers, the lace and silk that cupped her breasts falling away to bare her to his gaze, her tumble of brunette curls wrapped around his hand as he pulled her head back to lick at her throat. He’d never felt like this before, not even with Milah. His body had never wanted in this way, and he didn’t know what to do with the jumble of thoughts and feelings.

One hand dropped to rub against the front of his breeches, pulling a moan from his throat that he muffled with the soft cotton bedsheet. The pressure and friction was enough to calm him, but true relief would only come if he took himself in hand. He couldn’t - _wouldn’t_ \- do that. 

It felt wrong to pleasure himself to lurid thoughts of Lady Belle when she’d been so kind and generous to him and his son. It wouldn’t be right to think of her that way when she didn’t know and didn’t return his affection in that way. He clenched his jaw and palmed his cock through the leather, pressing hard and breathing slowly until the ache started to abate.

Was that was this sudden warm feeling was? His feelings for Lady Belle finally coming to the surface?

He supposed he could still be sick, but if he was it was the strangest, and possibly most pleasurable, illness he’d ever heard of. There was a sudden flash in his mind of the spilled potion, and his stomach sank. He didn’t know what had been in it, and he’d been too relieved not to be turned into a snail or a beetle or blown to bits that he had only cleaned up his mess and fled. He’d breathed some of the smoke in, but only a little. The rag had some of the potion on it and he’d touched it to his skin, but barely any had transferred. He thought potions had to be poured on oneself or ingested to have a proper effect, but he supposed even a little could cause a reaction. Perhaps it was the same as the nastier plants in the forest that could make you itch for days even from the slightest contact.

What if his current state was caused by the potion?

He closed his eyes and prayed that the effects would pass without further incident, and without Lady Belle finding out.

 

* * *

 

After a few more deep breaths, Rumplestiltskin was able to gather the laundry and change the bedclothes before making his way back down to the kitchens. He busied himself with heating water for the wash and preparing thick steaks of venison for dinner with a pile of small red potatoes from the garden. Both would be excellent roasted in the oven with herbs and butter.

Chores helped center his mind and keep it off of what had happened in Belle’s chambers. He still felt the little tingle and burning need from time to time, but so far his cock remained quiet. Before bed he might need to take care of himself, but he told himself he would only do that as a last resort, and he would make due with memories instead of wild fantasies.

A small humorless laugh escaped him as he considered how memories of Milah would likely have his cock shriveling up in no time. The thoughts of her bitter, stinging words and her small cruelties inspired nothing in him except sadness.

At that moment, Baelfire came bounding into the room, almost knocking one of the chairs over with a satchel slung over his shoulder

“Whoa, slow down!” Rumple called out, turning away from the stove with a crooked smile. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

Bae beamed at him and held up a small square of parchment covered in Belle’s loopy, graceful handwriting. “Lady Belle is sending me into town with a list. All by myself!”

Rumple’s brow knit. “By yourself...?”

“Relax,” Belle said, sliding up beside him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be fine. It’s a lovely spring day, and I’m letting him take Philippe.”

Rumple turned to face her. “Your horse?”

She smiled and nodded. “Why not? The poor steed gets so little exercise since I have a bad habit of poofing everywhere I need to go.”

He laughed and looked to Bae. “Be careful, son.”

The boy pushed open the door leading outside to the garden and the stables at the back. “I will, Papa. Thank you, my Belle!”

“That’s _My Lady_ Belle!” Rumple admonished as the door thumped shut. He shook his head in exasperation.

Beside him, Belle giggled, and he glanced at her. Her lips were pressed together in amusement. “You needn’t to be so formal, Rumple.”

“I...” his mouth opened and closed as he met her eyes, losing himself for a moment in their brilliant blue. “Sorry.”

He went back to his work, and Belle frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

Rumple swallowed as he felt a tightening in his groin, and he prayed he wouldn’t embarrass himself or insult Lady Belle before he could calm himself again. “N-nothing’s wrong, milady.”

“ _Belle_ ,” she said, softly, but insistently. She came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, letting her body press against his back in an almost hug. “And something _is_ wrong. You were skittish last night after I returned home, and you’ve been avoiding me since breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, trying to ignore the feeling of her body being so close to his. His cock was hardening now, growing thicker and pushing at the leather in a way that almost hurt. “I’m just - I have a lot to do that’s all, and I spent too much time in the garden yesterday.”

“Smelling my roses again?” she teased.

He shrugged a little, and she pulled away abruptly, wrapping her arms around her middle and tucking her hands away so she wouldn’t touch him again. It felt nice to be close to someone physically. Baelfire hugged her often, and it was lovely, but it wasn’t the same as the touch she wanted from Rumple. She craved intimacy for the first time since she’d taken on the Dark Curse to save her people, more than a hundred years ago. It seemed he didn’t feel the same and she refused make him uncomfortable or force anything from him.

“I could have used your help earlier,” she said, walking along the kitchen table and drawing her finger against the edge.

Rumple couldn’t help his smile as he patted a mix of crushed herbs and salt onto the meat, keeping close to the stove to hide his cock’s reaction to every whiff of her perfume. “Oh?”

She shrugged, though he wasn’t looking at her. “Just a little recipe I wanted to try, and it’s easier when I have someone reading the ingredients to me. I don’t have to keep walking back and forth to look at the book and my stores of supplies.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t find me, milady. I was doing the laundry.”

Belle sighed. He seemed determined to keep some kind of distance between them, of formality and status. “It’s alright. I know you work hard, even though you don’t need to. You could let the castle see to everything.”

He blew out a breath and wiped his hands on a rag, wishing she would leave so he could move away from the stove and deal with his traitorous body. “I know. But I enjoy the work more I think now that it’s not required.”

She nodded, but he didn’t say anything more. After a long moment, she excused herself, and left him to finish preparing their dinner.

Rumple staggered back and sagged into one of the chairs, making it squeak against the stone floor. Once more he palmed the front of his pants, stroking the hard ridge and trying to think of anything but the velvet green dress Belle was wearing today. Eventually, the sensations abated and he was left with a the low, lingering heat.

 

* * *

 

Another gust of wind rattled the windows as a rumble of thunder rolled along after it.

Belle sighed and looked up from her book. The storm seemed to come from nowhere, and if she hadn’t already checked four times, she might believe it was malevolent magic at work. Rains like these were unfortunately typical for this time of year. Poor Baelfire had been unable to make it back from town, and was staying the night with Granny at her inn. 

He was probably quite chuffed about it given the widow Lucas’s propensity for stuffing the boy with pastries. She’d given Granny a magic scroll that when written on would produce a matching message on a scroll here in the castle, providing a quick line of communication should the village ever need her assistance. In this case it was a quickly scrawled note that Granny “would not, under any circumstances, let a young boy go out in this nonsense.”

It was strangely quiet without Bae around. Normally they would all play a game of cards or read a story aloud. Rumplestiltskin liked to do silly voices which always made her and Bae laugh. Tonight was far more subdued and Belle wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the boy’s absence or whatever was going on with Rumple.

Since their encounter in the kitchen he’d more reticient than usual, not that he was ever a loud man, but the ease of conversation seemed to have lapsed between them. It bothered her, like a passage she couldn’t translate or a spell she couldn’t master. The voice of the curse kept nagging at her to force him to answer her questions, to pull the truth out of him with magic and threats, but she ignored it. Frustration or anger always made the curse louder in her mind.

She shifted on the longue and looked across the library at Rumple, who was sitting at his spinning wheel for the first time in days. He didn’t need to spin at all, but he said it helped him forget. Forget what she wasn’t sure, but she often suspected it was bad memories of a hard life in a tiny village that saw him as no more than a coward.

He was spinning tonight which meant he had something on his mind, something troubling him, and it troubled her in kind that he wouldn’t talk to her about it. She slipped a marker into her book, one made by Baelfire out of leftover thread from Rumple’s spinning, and folded it closed. She would ask him one last time, making sure he understood that he could tell her anything, and then she would let the matter lie.

Rumple watched the wheel spin and pushed the pedal steadily with his foot. The whirring sound was a soothing white noise that helped counter the thump of his heart in his ears. Every time he stole a glance at Lady Belle his heart rate increased and a flash of heat washed over him. The rhythmic motions of spinning kept his body from reacting too much, but if he didn’t have the pull of the thread and the coordination of movements to focus on, he would have been in a worse state than this afternoon. He was tempted to call it an early night, but he was afraid of what might happen when he was alone with his thoughts again. They would inevitably turn to Belle and the lines of her velvet dress, the way it clung to her shape, dipping low in the front and the back, showing off so much of her creamy skin.

The thread slipped through his fingers at the same time as his foot pushed down on the pedal and it sent the end flying and flipping around the wheel. He muttered a curse and leaned forward to grab hold of it, but when he bent he felt the telltale strain and tightness in his lower belly. 

_Gods, not again!_

Belle chose that exact moment to stand up and set her book aside. Instead of grabbing the thread he pulled up the blanket lying on the bench of the wheel, in case of cold nights in a drafty castle. He smoothed it over his waist, using it to cover himself so she wouldn’t see how weak he was, how he couldn’t control himself properly. Sweat started to break out on his upper lip as she approached. Her hips swayed sinfully, the fabric of her dress shimmering in the firelight. Outside, thunder rumbled along and rain slapped at the windows, making him shiver in spite of the rapidly growing heat inside him.

“Rumple?” she said, coming to stand just on the other side of the wheel. “Will you _please_ tell me what’s bothering you? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I _know_ something is wrong and I want to help you.”

He bit back a groan. Suddenly the pulse in his cock was too insistent to ignore. An image of her on her knees, a delicate hand wrapped around his shaft, floated through his mind. He was rock hard almost instantly, and had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a lewd sound. She didn’t know what she was asking. There was no way he could tell her without damaging their friendship and the wonderful peace he had found here.

“You’re so kind,” he said, forcing a smile. “But there’s really n-nothing to be helped.”

The hand holding the blanket in his lap flexed, giving his aching cock a slight squeeze. His eyelids fluttered at the frisson of pleasure rippling through him, and he knew he’d made a mistake. 

“Are you sick?” she asked, quickly moving around the side of the wheel to stand behind him. Her hand smoothed over his forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel too warm. There’s a spell I could -”

“No!” Rumple stood up abruptly, clutching the blanket to his waist. 

She huffed. “Rumple, you’re being ridiculous. Just let me -”

“ _No_ ,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “Really, I - I - I’m fine. I just need to lie down.” 

He muttered a quick goodnight and started to leave, hoping he could make it into the hallway before she tried to poof in front of him.

Belle pressed her lips together and then called out to him. “ _Rumplestiltskin_...wait.” 

He turned around, eyes wide and pleading, and she wasn’t sure if she want to smile at how beautiful he looked with the glow of the fire behind him, or cry for how lost and afraid he seemed. Her eyes trailed down his body and she frowned.

“Rumple...?” she started, crossing the short distance to stand in front of him. “Why are you holding that blanket?”

Now he felt like he might be sick. “Um, n-n-no reason. Just...chilly.”

Her frown deepened. He was very obviously hiding something, but she couldn’t imagine what.

She squared her shoulders and drew herself up, letting a little bit of the darkness come to the surface to bolster her confidence. “Drop the blanket, Rumplestiltskin.”

Rumple’s hand shook. “Please don’t -”

She stepped close enough to touch, and looked up at him, meeting his warm, brown eyes. “Let me help.”

He let out the most pathetic sound, closed his eyes, and the blanket fell softly to the floor.

Belle’s gasp was small, but it seemed to echo in the large room. “Oh...I -” 

The one thing she hadn’t expected was - _that_. He was hard. Very hard. And his leather pants look so tight as to be painful. She swallowed and her breathing increased as she felt a warmth gather low in her belly. 

“Is that - because of - me?” she asked. Her hand clenched and opened at her side, fighting the urge to reach for him.

“No,” he said too quickly. “I mean, yes, but - also no.”

Her head tilted slightly and she started to smile. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

Rumple sighed and his shoulders sagged. “It’s my fault that - that my thoughts have run away from me.”

Belle took another step, leaving almost no space between them. The toes of her shoes were almost touching his. “Thoughts?” 

Her eyebrow arched, and he knew he was done for. “I can’t help it, I’m sorry. I tried, I _really_ did. Please believe me! It’s like - it’s like there’s a fire inside me, and it - it makes me feel -”

He sighed in resignation, and she took his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. “A fire?" she questioned. Something about what he said tickled her brain. "How long have you felt this way?”

He nodded and squeezed her hand in return, grateful that she was giving him something to anchor to, but feeling almost lightheaded from the rushing blood in his ears. “Yes. Since...yesterday.”

“ _When_ yesterday?” She frowned again. “Rumple, did something happen while I was gone?”

He swallowed hard and pulled his hand away. “I didn’t mean it, I swear! Please, Lady Belle, you -”

She reached for him and caught his hand again, holding it against her chest as her other hand came up to cup his cheek. “Mean what? Just tell me what’s wrong. I won’t be angry and I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

For a moment he thought it was ludicrous to suggest that she would harm him, but then it sunk in. She was cursed, she’d told him, with the darkest magic, and despite her efforts to help others, he sensed the curse weighed heavily on her heart. It seemed a struggle sometimes to avoid destroying those she saw as unjust, and instead find a way to punish them to satisfy her magic’s bloodlust without shedding too much blood. He knew she’d killed people, despite her desire not to, and the thought of saying or doing the wrong thing and putting Bae at risk weighed heavily on him. 

The fearful feeling dissipated as her thumb stroked over his cheek. Her skin felt so cool against his, soothing and light compared to the fever in his veins. A wave of need crashed over him again, and he nearly staggered into her as his legs shook.

“The potion,” he managed. “I - I spilled it.”

Belle shook her head. “What po - _oh_...” 

Her lips pressed together as she fought a smile. That explained a lot, both about why he’d been skittish for the past day and why he was in his current... _state_. The lust potion she’d brewed was what some believed a love potion, though no magic could induce real love. It would cause whomever came in contact with it to be so overwhelmed with desire they might think it to be love. But the vial had been full, or nearly so. He must not have spilled very much. It didn’t make any sense why he was so affected.

“It was only a tiny drop, I swear.” His voice was pleading and he seemed to be leaning into her, trying to get as close as she would allow. “I only bumped the table and it fell over. I wiped it up and stoppered it, and didn’t touching _anything_ else.”

“It’s alright,” she said, stroking his shaggy hair back from his face. “It’s not harmful, only...a bit uncomfortable.”

“Yes,” he hissed, unable to ignore the throb between his legs. “I’m so sorry, Belle.”

She smiled. Finally he’d used her name, no titles, no formality. “I know you are, Rumple, and it’s fine, really. At least it didn’t turn you into a slug or shrink you to the size of a gnat. But I don’t understand why you’re feeling this way. It shouldn’t last this long if you only had a small bit of it.”

His eyes went wide. “It was the only thing that happened. I wouldn’t lie, I _swear_ -”

Her fingers covered his lips and she gave him a mildly stern look. “I know you wouldn’t. I believe you. The potion is harmless in small doses, it should only make you feel a little feverish, not -” 

She gestured towards his crotch and then it hit her. The potion was most effective when there were already feelings or an attraction between two people.

_Oh._

__

__

So he - about her? 

_Well, then._

“Rumplestiltskin,” she cooed, her voice a light, teasing sing-song. 

His eyelids fluttered at the sound. It felt like a gentle caress and, combined with her proximity and the soft touches of her hands, was slowly unraveling him. “Belle...”

She smiled and brought his hand to her lips before she stepped back, pulling him to follow her. “I think I know the best way to help you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Belle knows what's...up...with Rumple, she's determined to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is porn people. Pure and simple. The woobie has needs and Belle will see to them. Blessings to the amazing mariequitecontrarie for giving this a much needed once over despite uprooting her whole life and moving. She's a star.

Belle lead Rumplestiltskin back to the spinning wheel.

He stumbled when she twisted to sit on the bench, and caught himself by holding on to the wheel. 

“Belle, y-you don’t -” he said, fingers holding the wood so tight his knuckles were white. “I should have stayed out of your tower. I should control myself. I - I -” 

She hushed him, then guided him backwards until he was standing in the small space between the bench and the wheel, his body pressed against the wood. Instinctively, he held on to it, his fingers wrapping around a spindle on either side as his breathing increased.

He blinked, unable to comprehend what was happening. It wasn’t possible that she cared for him, so it must be pity, and the thought made his stomach twist in revulsion.

“Belle, please, I’m -” Rumple thrust out a hand as if to push her away, but the heat in her gaze cut his apology short.

“Do you trust me, Rumple?” she asked, letting her eyes roam up his body and over the solid bulge in his leather trousers and the silky blue shirt she favored, to meet his.

He shivered under her gaze and gripped the wheel again. “Y-yes?”

Belle smiled softly. “Are you certain?”

“Wh-what are you going to do?” His mind was filling itself with all manner of filth, of Belle touching him and taking him in her mouth, and he was trying very hard to remain still. He felt like if he moved, he might do something untoward and offend her, but her lips looked so soft and pretty, so kissable.

She pressed her lips together, suddenly nervous about what she was going to say, and took a slow breath. The darkness seeped into her mind, flashing images of Rumplestiltskin on his knees, her bed, her work table in the tower, his teary eyes pleading with her as she tormented him. The thoughts sent a frisson of pleasure down her spine. The darkness wanted his suffering, but she wanted only his pleasure. Evil had touched her family once before, back in Avonlea, and she’d vowed it never would again.

The sound of her name brought her attention back to Rumplestiltskin. “I’m going to touch you,” she said finally. “Is that alright?”

“Y-you don’t have to,” he said through clenched teeth.

“And if I want to?” she asked.

_She wanted to?_

He nodded his consent, and she shifted forward on the bench, spreading her legs and arranging her dress so she could be as close to him as possible. She looked up at him, watching his throat work, and fought the urge to stand up and lick at his neck. Desire simmered beneath her skin, and she was determined to keep it there. This was about him, not her.

Rumple watched dumbfounded as her dainty fingers plucked at the lacing of his pants. The pressure of her hands and the tugs on the strings were the sweetest torment as she worked from his waist to his crotch. His eyes rolled back in his head as she slowly pulled the laces through the holes, loosening the confining leather until at last he felt something give. He looked down and saw her hands spread the front of his breeches open, baring his cock to the cool air of the room.

He gasped and her eyes drifted up to meet his. She smiled softly, her gaze flitting between his face and his throbbing cock. It was all he could do to keep still. He wanted to reach for her, for himself, for anything that would give him relief from the exquisite torture his body was experiencing. His lips pressed together as he sucked in a shaky breath through his nose.

“My, you are in quite a state,” Belle said, glancing up at him through her dark lashes.

She held his gaze and licked her bottom lip, hoping he would understand the subtle gesture as proof of her desire. His cock was hard and twitching with every breath, bobbing against the fine line of hair that lead down from his navel. It was no small thing, and her head tilted slightly as she eyed it. He must have been in agony in his leather trousers, and the thought pulled at the darkness inside her, making her wet between her legs.

He let out a whimper, and she shushed him gently, pushing the leather open further with her hands until the two sides fell open against his thighs, the laces dangling almost to his knees. The breeches sagged and slid down, exposing his backside as well and making him wobble. Carefully, she slipped her hand inside and cradled his balls in her palm, lifting them out as she pulled his trousers down just a bit more.

Rumple’s head fell back and he groaned loudly. The sensation of finally being touched by Belle in this intimate way was almost too much. Milah had never been this slow or tender, and she certainly never let her eyes linger on his body. His cock had been a means to an end for her, an end - Baelfire - that later on she didn’t want at all. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing away his bad thoughts. 

They had no place in this moment, not with Belle. 

She bit down on her bottom lip, savoring the little sounds he made as she rolled the velvety sack in her hand. His hands let got of the wheel and curled into tight fists at his sides. She’d lived over one hundred years and while she wasn’t the most experienced, she’d had a few lovers. They would have reached for her by now, tried to move things along faster and seek their pleasure. Most men probably would have by now, but then Rumplestiltskin wasn’t what most people assumed him to be.

She repeated the motion, rolling his balls against her palm before pulling her hand away. His cock twitched again as a single drop leaked from the head. Unable to help herself, she swiped her finger across the tip and lifted it away with her finger, delighting in the strangled cry he let out.

“Poor Rumple,” she cooed, bringing the finger to her lips. His eyes were so dark, like a full bottle of brandy, and wide with what she sensed was a mix of fear and wonder. She licked the taste of him from her finger, sucking it into her mouth, and moaned.

“Belle,” he gasped, unable to help himself anymore. His legs shook with the effort of staying upright. 

Belle’s hand hovered near him, tracing the length of him in the air as she longed to do physically. “What do you need, my spinner?”

Rumple swallowed hard. The words were there in his mind but giving voice to them seemed too great a feat. He wasn’t brave enough to tell the Dark One how he wanted her, how he needed her, cared for her, and longed to give her pleasure almost more than he wanted it for himself. A plaintive noise slipped out, and he reached back, grasping the spindles on the wheel once more as his mouth tried to force the words out.

“You,” he managed. “ _Please_...I need...”

She placed her hands on his thighs, rubbing up and down to sooth the trembling muscles. “Do you need me to touch you, Rumple?” He nodded, and she gave him a reassuring squeeze on his good leg. “You want...relief? Pleasure?”

He made another noise and panted around his words. “Yes... _gods_ yes! _Oh_ , Belle...”

Her heart lurched at the sound of her name on his lips, so needy and desperate. He let out the most undignified yelp when her hand skimmed along his cock, tentative at first, her fingers on one side, her thumb on the thick vein on the underside. On the next stroke she wrapped her hand fully around his length, still gentle and light, learning his reactions.

She licked her lips again. “Like this?”

His eyes rolled back of his head and he tensed his grip on the spinning wheel. Belle’s hand felt so good, and his body so sensitive, the heat from the potion making every nerve sing. She was stroking him with such agonizing slowness, but the light friction was better than nothing, better than he deserved. He wanted to thrust into her hand, and his thighs trembled with the effort of keeping his hips still. 

“S’good,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut against the ripple of pleasure shooting from his cock and deep into his belly. “Want - want - to touch you too.”

The confession slipped out, and he bit down on his lip as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

“Later,” she promised softly. 

Her hand moved more firmly, held him harder, and his hips bucked, sliding his cock through her fist. His face was slack-jawed one moment, tight and grimacing the next, and she knew that the potion must be wreaking havoc on his body. Every sensation would be amplified, pleasure waning into discomfort and back again. Her eyelids fluttered and she breathed slowly, twisting her hand and pulling a particularly pained noise from his throat.

She smiled and felt a throb between her legs that matched the pulse of his cock against her palm. He was stunning like this, cock hard and leaking, straining for her touch. Her curse revelled in it.

“You’re so good, so beautiful, Rumple.”

He whimpered at the praise and pulled on the wheel, shaking it. She sensed he might very well break something, so she bent forward and wrapped her lips around him. He was hard and burning hot inside her mouth, and she felt a flood of arousal and an empty ache between her legs. She teased him with slow licks of her tongue along his length, holding him softly between her lips as she stroked up and down. Her hand covered what she couldn’t reach with her mouth, spreading her saliva with her palm as it dripped down.

Rumple groaned and let his head fall forward, and she glanced up at him, their eyes meeting. Her mouth closed tighter around his cock and her hand moved faster, pulling a low, strangled sound from him. He felt like he was drowning, and he couldn’t get a coherent thought to form in his head. His body started to tense, muscles flexing without his control. She was tormenting him, and he could do nothing about it, only stand there struggling and burning with need. The strange thing was, he craved it and a part of him didn’t want it to end because once he finished, she would have no reason to touch him in this way.

Belle flushed with desire, the warmth between her legs made more insistent by the noises he was making and the thick feel of him in her hand and mouth. The curse prodded at her mind and made her skin prickle. She wanted him inside her, she wanted the hard, warm feeling, and the tingle in her belly as she stretched around his cock, but she pushed it aside in her determination to see him undone.

She pulled back to run her tongue around his tip as she kept stroking him with her hand. His head tipped back, exposing his throat, and she licked his cock hard, flicking her tongue against the head. She caressed his balls at the same time, gently squeezing them and rolling them against her palm, feeling them tighten and draw up signaling his release was near.

“Close,” he gasped. “Belle, _oh_....”

He couldn’t hold himself back from crying out as the stimulation of her hand and lips and tongue sent him careening over the edge. He nearly sobbed in relief as her lips closed around him again to catch his seed in her mouth. Her fingers pressed at the base of his shaft, causing his cock to pulse again and sending a hot bolt of pleasure through him until finally, he felt nothing, no heat, no burning ache.

She swallowed and let him fall out of her mouth before she stood up, pressing herself to his body to help keep him upright as he sagged against the wheel. On instinct, she waved her hand and transported them to his room. The swirling smoke dissipated and she guided him back to sit on the end of his bed. He dropped down, but remained still and quiet; the only sound beyond their breathing was the crackling of the fire. After a long moment, she eased away from him, unnerved by the way he avoided eye contact. He seemed to be withdrawing from her, and his lack of response left her uncertain.

Belle began to fret, worried that she’d hurtled brazenly into this, driven by her usual impulsiveness and the siren call of the darkness inside her. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted this after all. She’d hoped pleasuring him would alleviate his situation and the tension between them, not make the things worse. If she had forced him into something he didn’t want, she would never forgive herself.

Rumplestiltskin felt her move, and it brought back to the moment. His arms came up around her waist, keeping her close. “Thank you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against her torso. 

He was sated and sleepy, and wanted nothing more than to hold this beautiful, brilliant woman for as long as she’d let him. He tipped his head up and gave her a lazy grin, and she smiled. Her head dipped and she covered his lips with hers in a brief, sweet kiss that left him feeling warm and content.

“You don’t need to thank me,” she said, holding his face in her hands. “I - I wanted to. I have for some time.”

She stepped back as magic began to shimmer around her, replacing her green velvet dress with a delicate lace nightdress, and removing Rumple’s remaining clothing. He seemed startled by the sensation of the magic along his skin and his head shot up, eyes widening as he took her in.

Her fingers fidgeted with the bow at the front of the dress, the only thing holding it closed. “Is this alright?”

Rumple nodded, smiling, and held out his hands. She took them and let him pull her close, accepting a soft kiss that quickly grew into more as their mouths opened to each other. He cupped her face, his fingers reaching into her hair, and she melted against him, moaning into his mouth as she chased his tongue with hers.

Eventually, he broke the kiss, panting harshly, and she gave him a playful shove, urging him to move back on the bed. He shook his head, and shifted backwards, barely able to believe that he was here, that _she_ was here. Lady Belle was in his bed, and she wanted him in the same way he wanted her. He could feel the slow return of heat inside his body, growing from his chest outwards. His neck felt too warm and his skin was chilled and hot at the same time, making him shiver as he settled against the pillows.

His bed had a good number of pillows, and she had to bit her lip to keep from grinning. The cottage he and Bae had lived in was sparse to say the least and every comfort that was available was given to the boy first. Bae slept on a straw bed with a single pillow, while Rumple made due with a palette on the floor and nothing but his arm to prop him up. When she brought them here his first and only request for himself was a pillow, which she found absurd, and so the castle obliged. Now his room had more pillows than he knew what to do with.

Belle watched him as she moved up the bed, crawling on her knees, her gaze reflecting every bit of the desire and hunger in his. She had to resist the darkness and the urge to seek pleasure as soon as possible, knowing that if she did she might lose control and hurt or scare him. 

His smile faded and his eyes squeezed shut as his body abruptly tensed, and she stilled, straddling his thighs. His mouth opened and a pained groan came out as he felt the fever rush through his veins once more, this time stronger and more intense than even a few minutes ago. His cock twitched and throbbed, coming back to life in a matter of seconds. This time even the air was too much, his skin too sensitive from his recent orgasm.

She gasped and looked down in near awe as his cock hardened and grew, stretching up to bob against his stomach. It was already red and leaking, as if he’d been hard for hours. His pained whimper drew her attention, and she cupped his cheek.

“I don’t - how - ?” he managed through gritted teeth, bending forward to try to alleviate the discomforting pull in his belly.

“It’s alright, my Rumple,” she cooed, slipping her fingers into his hair and pulling him to her chest. “I’ll take care of you.”

She lifted his head and pushed the lace gown open, exposing her breasts and offering her nipples to his eager mouth. Groaning, he captured first one in his mouth, sucking harder than he intended and making her cry out. He made to pull away but her hands came up and held him there.

“More,” she sighed, scraping her nails over his scalp.

The sensation momentarily distracted him from the persistent ache of his cock and the prickling heat. He caught the bud in his teeth, nibbling gently, wanting to please her so that she’d let him inside, and give him what he sensed they both needed. His hand cupped her other breast, feeling the slight weight in his palm and the warm, smoothness of her fair skin. She keened as he brushed his thumb over her other nipple, working both breasts in tandem until she was wriggling and writhing over him, pressing her hips closer to his cock. 

Belle finally decided to take pity on him, pulling away from his mouth and moving backwards to shed her gown the rest of the way. His gasp at the sight of her naked body sent a shiver through her, and she paused to let him look his fill. After a long moment, neither could it stand to be apart and she surged forward, capturing his mouth in a rough, wet kiss. When they parted, she took him in hand, stroking his length twice before guiding him to her entrance.

Rumple had to bite his lip, hard, to keep from shouting at the top of his lungs. The warmth and slickness of Belle’s body was too much, and he fought not to thrust up into her until she was ready. He concentrated on taking deep, even breaths, desperate not to disappoint her before she could even get him inside.

She lowered herself slowly, gasping and whimpering with need as her pussy stretched pleasantly. He felt so large, swollen with his desire, and she felt her own arousal drip from her body, wet and eager from having him at her mercy. The darkness boiled within her, wave after wave of the voice rolled through her mind, begging her to prolong his torment, to take what she wanted and make him beg. Her eyes closed as she forced the thoughts away.

The sweet agony of feeling her surround him so slowly left Rumple panting and clawing at the sheets. He could do nothing but lie there and feel, as she finally took him all the way inside her, moaning in relief as she settled against his thighs.

Belle licked her lips, tasting sweat, and bracing her arms on his chest as she started moving. He felt so good inside her, hot and throbbing, so hard she could feel every inch of his cock rubbing against her pussy. He grabbed her waist and after a few moments, started thrusting upwards in rhythm with her hips. She knew he wouldn’t last long, the potion had seen to that, but she wanted to come with him, so she reached down, caressing her clit in quick little circles. 

He groaned as he took in the sight of her pleasuring both herself and him at the same time. “Belle,” he gasped. “My sweet, beautiful Belle.”

Her head tilted back, and she smiled at his words, feeling them for the first time in years. “My Rumple...”

There was no way to describe what he was feeling. The way her cunt massaged his cock, the burning caress of her body moving against his, slow at first, and then faster and faster. Silky drips of her juices came out as she rode him,running down to his balls. She was making such perfect sounds as she moved, and her nails digging into his skin grounded him, giving him a sharp but not unpleasant pain to focus on and prolonging their shared pleasure. 

The noises coming out of his throat all but begged her to let him finish. He was almost over the edge again, and though her legs burned, she moved even harder and faster against him. Her release was close, and she felt his hand brush against hers as he took over the steady circling motion on her clit. His touch was just a bit lighter than hers, but it didn’t matter as she felt the first blush of orgasm.

Rumple could barely think or breath; his body was sensation and motion and desperation. Colors sparked behind his eyes and every hair on his skin stood on end as he finally achieved climax. He cried out her name and heard her answer with a shout of her own as he his body hurtled over the edge. She shook above him as her cunt convulsed, demanding everything he had left, as she moved through wave after wave. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, holding it in place as her hips continued to rub against him, drawing out the sensations until the very end.

He was sure he had died and gone to heaven. His body was warm and sated, with a comforting weight pressed to his chest, and something tickling his chin. He slowly came back to reality, moving his limbs carefully at first and feeling a little achy. One eye cracked open and he saw the top of Belle’s head as she cuddled up against his side.

Belle purred with pleasure as his arms closed tightly around her. She looked up, and he kissed her softly, his tongue easing between her lips as she drew up his body.

“That was amazing,” he said as she pulled away. “You’re - you...” Words escaped him, so he just smiled and shook his head.

She grinned and kissed him again. “You too.”

They settled on the bed, quiet for a time, until he finally asked. “What was in that potion?”

Belle's head moved, brushing her hair along his chest. “Hmm. Rose water, jasmine, nilla root, dragon's blood - that's the part that makes you feel so warm on the inside - gold dust, winterberry juice...I think that’s it.”

“Well, that was...quite an effect.”

She laughed lightly. “It’s what some believe to be a love potion,” she explained. “But it isn’t. Magic can’t make love. It just induces desire.”

Rumple swallowed and made a soft ‘huh’ sound. 

_Love._ That was a word he hadn’t let himself think, but it was the best description of what he felt and had been feeling towards Belle. 

“If...,” she started and then stopped, wondering if she should fully explain the reaction and what it meant or if she should let things be.

“What?” he asked softly. “What is it?”

She kept her eyes down, focused on her fingertips brushing the fine hairs of his stomach. “If a... _connection_...between two people already exists, then the potion’s effects can be, uh, _enhanced_. Proportionally, it seems.”

His head spun with what that could mean. “Connection?”

She nodded, rubbing her cheek against him as she tried and failed to hold back a smile. It was too good of a feeling to keep inside, this _connection_ between them. Her eyes lifted, meeting his, and that instant she had to know.

“Rumple, do you -?” she started to ask as she pushed herself up.

He moved as well, leaning down to push his lips firmly against hers, cutting her off. When he pulled back her eyes were shining, tears trembling in the corners, ready to fall at a word from him. “Yes.”

Her eyes closed, sending droplets down her rosy cheeks, as she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Me too.”

Rumple’s arms came up to hold her as he breathed in and out, inhaling the musky scent of their joining. They hadn’t really said it out loud or defined what was between them, but his chest felt full to bursting. 

For the first time ever, Rumplestiltskin was home.


End file.
